Too Late
by Sparrow-of-Chaos
Summary: In a note he said everything he ever needed to say, in an instant he was gone before she could say a word. Story of that last goodbye one should never have to say. OS.


For: Cheyenne Fraser. Jan 7th '91 - Nov 12th '06. I love you Chey, I always will. You were one of the best friends I've ever had.

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The minister spoke solemnly about him. Candles flickered around the casket and the few people in the small, private funeral held roses. Pictures were shown in a video slide show depicting his short tragic yet happy life. His friends sat in the front row of the funeral, crying silently.

He was gone, never coming back. It was a reality too harsh to face all at once. A light had been extinguished and few knew why.

He was so happy yet in retrospect his insane attention grabbing antics seemed a cover up to something deeper. He had been through many things that most people never face. Sadly, everything in retrospect is ultimately just in retrospect; nothing can be done.

There was an empty space in the front row, of course she wasn't going to be there, too many people she didn't want to be around and one person whom she went to great pains to state she didn't care about. People were going to talk when word got out but people always talked it was just a small fact of life.

When she had heard she just looked into the teary faces of her friend and said nothing, her face did not change. For her reaction, you may have just given her a weather report.

Over the course of three days, she disappeared, retreating away from the people around her. If anyone tried to talk she never responded. When one of her friends ran to her crying the night before the funeral, she ignored her. Turning her back to her crying friend, she picked up the book she was looking for.

"Please. Do you not care about his passing?" had been her friend's pleas, choked by sobs. They may have fallen on the deaf ears and had better impact.

"No. He is dead; face it he is never coming back that's final. Stop crying and get over it." She had hissed back, instead of just simply walking away. Her tone had been sharp but emotionless. She could remember the strangled cry in response than the anger the radiated off her scorned friend.

"You cold, unfeeling…bitch! He was your friend as well! You can not act as if his death does not matter to you." She did not need to turn around to know the look on her friend's face was one of contempt and grief.

"I don't care. He was a moron, a complete fucking moron," she said. No change in her voice, no hint of emotion. Her indifference was more infuriating to her friend than if she had reacted in anger.

"It was not him who should have died. It should have been you, with your unpleasant looks and nasty words," her friend had said, her voice cold with hatred and fury, her eyes overflowing with tears, her look hostile.

"People live, people die, it's pointless to be upset about it," she said before leaving the room. Her friend collapsed to her knees in a mixture of grief and anger.

"I hate you," were the strangled words that were choked out from the keeling form, but even though she had heard her friend, she had just kept walking away. The words seemed to slide off, instead of cutting like a razor, as they would have with most people.

When she reached her room and sat down, the note that had slipped under her door the night he died caught her attention. It was a plain white envelope, her name was not even on it and as far, she knew no one else had gotten one.

Holding it in her hands, she knew what it was…a final goodbye. They were rare to get when a friend passes on as young as him, but when it is a suicide, people usually get do a note, or some degree of farewell. In the depth of her mind, she was glad she was not the one who had found him.

From what she had heard, he had swallowed an entire bottle of prescription sleep aids and had been found lying as if merely slumbering in his bed. The pills had worked; he was never going to wake up again. There was no goodbye or explanation, he had just gone.

Opening the note she read it, he eyes slowly scanning the words, knowing that this was probably the last thing he had done and it deserved respect, even if it was from him. After she was done she held it out, her hands paralyzed with emotion and closed her eyes. Two tears escaped her eyes and fell in the paper, marring the neat penmanship.

She placed it on her dresser, turned off the light and lay down on her bed. The words repeated in her mind and tears fell from her eyes. She was disgusted with herself for crying but she could not stop the flow of tears. They fan down her face and pooled in her ears.

She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling with blurry, teary vision. Her room was dark and silent as ever. She could almost hear his voice repeating the words in her head.

"_…I'm sorry, for everything. I know I annoyed you and on occasion really did insult you but I would like you to understand this. I cared about you. You were my friend, and every time you hid your face or locked yourself in you room it was all I could do from grabbing you and hugging you, I never wanted to let go._

_No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself and us that you were bad I never could see it.  
_

_What you need to know is this: You are wonderful.  
_

_Not matter how much you tell yourself otherwise, you truly are. I have seen you do selfless things that perhaps few others noticed. _

I know you think I'm a moron; worthless and annoying and sure a few times you pissed me off too but I know I was your friend.

**You were always mine.**

I remember the first time I saw you smile and for that day on, I made it my duty to make you smile at least once a day. The few times that you did are some of my best memories. As much as you don't want to admit it, you care about people and do have a beautiful soul. I know you would give you life for your friends.

_Everyday I tried to think of ways to include you and let you know **you're not alone.** _

You aren't you know. People do care, not just me.

Do not think what I did was your fault, it truly isn't. I know it was you who said a great deal of harsh things to me, especially today but this is something I have wanted to do for a long time. I know you had your past, and I had mine too. Everyone has demons and skeletons in the closet; you just hid yours so much that you became a skeleton in your closet. You run from your past and end up living in it; I bury my past and end up carrying it with me.

_I am aware that this is a coward's way out and that by doing this I have hurt a large number of people but life goes on. I am free now, and perhaps you can be too. I don't mean taking the same path as me, I doubt you will do that, I am referring to have a little bit of fun for me, okay? _

Don't cry too much if at all. I do not expect you to come to any service they have for me. That's why I wrote this, so I could say goodbye. I know that in the hour I have spent writing this I have gone out and stood in front of your door at least ten times, trying to knock and tell you all this in person but I can't. For the many times I have invaded your space I simply couldn't this one time. You were still angry with me.

I love you. I am not in love with you, at least I don't think so…I may be in some way but I know what would have happened. I just love you as a friend; you were perfect in my eyes. One of the best friends I ever had.

You're not alone and never will be.

I will always love you with all my heart."

The tears didn't stop as she fell into a light, disturbed sleep. They continued to trickle down her face, as if they knew this was the one time that they could fall.

She heard them leave the next morning, she wasn't going to the service, instead she sat in her room, looking through a photo album and trying not to cry. The pictures brought back memories that hurt, stung and left a burning feeling of guilt but in each one, there was a small bit of happiness. They had been there together, they had been friends.

When she was sure that the service was over she changed into a black skirt and top. She pulled on her raincoat to shield herself from the drizzle and walked outside, the note in her breast pocket. From a hill, she watched the burial. It was an eco-burial, typical him.

Once a headstone was set and the few people wandered off, some having to be supported by others, she walked down to the site. The rain had already flattened the dirt and the turf placed overtop looked more real that the grass around it.

Kneeling on the wet ground, she traced the name on the gravestone with her fingers. Tears joined the rainwater that was already on her pale cheeks.

Water soaked through her long skirt but she didn't notice. His picture was on the head stone and she brushed water away from it. As she did so the note fell out of her pocket and onto the ground, unfolding so,  
"I will always love you with all my heart" was shown.

Reading the words she began to cry harder and placed one had on the slight rise in the ground. The grass felt fake beneath her hand.

In an instant she wished she had always told him what he had meant to her. How much she had appreciated and loved his friendship. All that poured out in the hot rush of tears from her already red eyes.

She picked up the note and pocketed it again. Tears still fell freely from her eyes and she made no move to brush them away.

"I'm sorry," She whispered to her best friend's grave. Those were the words she knew she should have said to him a million times over. It was too late now, everything was too late. Standing up she stood looking at the photo.

"I'll love you always too…"

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Review...or check out my other story, "Through the Bottom of My Glass." 


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